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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29266203">The Mistakes that Make Us</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/johlyfams/pseuds/johlyfams'>johlyfams</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Historical, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Happy Ending, Historical AU, I'm Bad At Tagging, Love Confessions, M/M, Major Character Undeath, Possession, at least I think so, but like the fun kind, but then re-death weemp womp, doctor jeno haha, early 1900's, endgame nohyuck, spanish influenza</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:41:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,251</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29266203</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/johlyfams/pseuds/johlyfams</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Jeno." He started, raising his eyes to meet the other's. They are Jaemin's eyes staring back at him. Jeno nods in acknowledgement, encouraging the figure to continue.</p><p>"I'm dead, right?"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Lee Jeno, Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Mistakes that Make Us</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>howdy-do, friends!</p><p>this is my first nomin fic i'm very excited to share it!</p><p>just wanted to reiterate that, in this fic, there is a death, then an un-death, then a re-death so please don't read if that's not what you're looking for! also, there is a very brief mention of needles! it's not super in-depth or anything and they aren't actually used, but i think it still warrants a trigger warning.</p><p>i genuinely really love this fic and i hope you do as well, so happy reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">For December, it was a pleasant day outside. A few rays of the late evening sun were still peeking through seemingly omnipresent cloud cover, and there was no winter gale to whip at his already chapped skin. The slush that had been in the streets for weeks had melted down to a few stubborn clumps of grayish ice that decorated the edges of the gutters. Now, under his boots there was only the dry, stony sidewalk.</p><p class="p1">The walk to patients’ homes often felt like omens for Lee Jeno. Perhaps, he often thought, the weather was a sign of luck, from God, the universe, or whatever the hell else there was out there. He chanced a smile at the sky before he arrived at the doorstep of a small apartment, squished unceremoniously among others on the street. “Na Jaemin,” the doorpost read.</p><p class="p1">Jeno fished a cotton mask out of the leather satchel at his side before raising a fist to rap at the word wood door. He heard a weak groan from inside, followed shortly by a wet cough.</p><p class="p1">“It’s not locked.” Was the answer that came after a few more beats of silence.</p><p class="p1">Jeno was surprised he’d heard the man at all, his voice so low and small, hollow with sickness. He tried the handle and the door gave, so he let himself inside. It was familiarly warm inside the small main room. Everything looked the same, and was in its place, and smelled of lavender and clean linen, just as it always had. That day, though, something in the atmosphere felt different than the last time he’d been there. Chillier, it seemed.</p><p class="p1">That visit was the sixth time Jeno had seen Na Jaemin, one of his twice-weekly meetings with the boy. In these visits, Jeno would accomplish his routine of measuring his temperature, recording his condition, and administering medicine to curb his symptoms while his body slowly recovered from the virus. The Spanish Influenza, as he had heard it called in the newspapers, had been strenuous on everyone who’d contracted it, and harbored the highest death toll he’d ever seen in his short career. Na Jaemin was the eighth patient of such ailment that he’d treated. Seven of them had survived by the time he started visiting the man.</p><p class="p1">Na had started showing symptoms of the malicious disease a little over a month ago. Over the two previous visits Jeno had made to the small apartment, Na’s breathing had begun to transition from its ragged gasping to something reminiscent of constancy, though it was often interrupted by violent, hacking coughs. His fever had remained high and was holding steady for weeks, but Jeno had been hopeful, oh so hopeful, that that visit would be the day that it broke. As he turned from locking the front door to face the other man in the room, his heart dropped like an anvil in his chest. His luck had run out.</p><p class="p1">Na was on his bed, under his sheets, shaking like he’d been dropped in the Arctic Ocean. His breathing was fast, and every exhale released a sound of crackling like somebody was rolling rocks around in a cup. The sound of fluid in the lungs, and judging by how fast his breaths were coming, a lot of it. His skin was slick with sweat, but his lips were dry and cracked and colorless. He looked at Jeno in the eyes. They were cloudy and dull, tired and hopeless.</p><p class="p1">They both knew, as they stared at each other in that dark room on that pleasant day in December. Jaemin was tired. It would be that day.</p><p class="p1">Where Jeno would normally begin to gather from his bag the things he’d need to begin his routine of helping Na eat, change clothes, take his prescriptions, he instead drew it from his shoulder and hung it on the rack next to the door. He followed it with his coat and hat. He pulled the chair from under the writing desk beside the bed and turned in so that it was facing the ill boy. As he sat down, he didn’t pull off his mask, though he squinted his eyes in what he hoped was a reassuring smile. The other must have accepted it, because he smiled back at Jeno, just the smallest sliver of his big, straight teeth poking out from behind his bloodied lips. The quiet moment was burst when a vicious cough erupted from Na’s chest, bending him over the side of the bed and wrenching the air clean from his lungs.</p><p class="p1">Jeno flinched; it was all he could do to press a hand to the clammy skin of the man’s shoulder and wait for the tremors and wheezes to pass. The man collapsed back against the pillows, exhausted, mousy brown hair glued to his perspiring forehead. His breathing had returned to normal, as normal as the short, crackling gasps he had been taking earlier could be. Each one he managed to sip in was more labored than the last.</p><p class="p1">Jeno wanted so, <em>so</em> desperately to help. His fingers itched and his chest ached with the need to do something, to do anything at all. He thought of the thoracentesis needle resting in his pack. It was long enough to puncture through the tissue of his lungs and drain some of the suffocating fluid within. While he could very well have used it, it only would have been buying time from the inevitable. The procedure would be excruciating for the already suffering boy, and it would be only a temporary solution, lasting maybe three hours tops in his condition. Even then, the high temperature the boy had been fighting for weeks would still be there, slowly shutting down his body’s systems until he lost all function to the fever. His lungs would still be inflamed and infected, leaking asphyxiating fluid until it smothered him from the inside out, again and again. Looking at the man, too, he knew the boy would not have the energy to withstand such procedures. In his weak state, the agony would likely send him into shock, his body shutting down even quicker. Jeno knew, however unwillingly, that he could do nothing but sit by and watch as the life drained from Na Jaemin, drip by sickened drip, until there was no more.</p><p class="p1">“Jaemin.” At the use of his first name, the boy looked up at Jeno again, a lazy, far-away look.</p><p class="p1">“Is there anyone I should ring for you? Family? A friend?” Jaemin’s face crumpled as he processed the words. His eyes, already glassy from the fever, welled up with unshed tears. He blinked slowly and dazedly. This was it. The beginning of the end. Jeno’s chest clenched around his lungs.</p><p class="p1">Jaemin looked away, at the ceiling, and shook his head, the movement minuscule and tired. One of his trembling hands emerged from beneath the bedding and reached for Jeno. The doctor took it in his own without a shred of hesitation. Hand-in-hand, they sat for a few stretched minutes of heavy silence. What a miserable sight they were.</p><p class="p1">“Jaemin, would you like me to stay with you?”</p><p class="p1">In lieu of an answer, Jaemin squeezed his hand tighter.</p><p class="p1">He gathered what little of his breath he had left and looked back at Jeno with those sad, tired eyes.</p><p class="p1">“Doctor Lee, what is your first name?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">-</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">In his final moments, Jeno injected Jaemin with the small dose of morphine in his supply. He had fallen unconscious a few minutes past, the fluid in his lungs at last choking off his oxygen after hours spent listening to Jeno’s one-sided conversation and holding his hand. Occasionally, he would huff out a sharp breath, the closest he could manage to a laugh without triggering another coughing fit. His expression throughout the entirety of the night was gooey and sweet, he never once complained of the pain, though Jeno was certain the boy was in constant torment, and he didn’t miss the occasional scrunch of his eyebrows and quiet groans. Jaemin had, in the few hours they sat together, once asked him not to do anything when the <em>time</em> came, and to just stay with him and let him be— or, cease to be— but Jeno felt he physically could not stop himself; he was a doctor for God’s sake. He wanted Jaemin’s passing to be swift, he wanted his final brain activity while he was alive to be peaceful, not fitful with pain. He felt it was the least he could do.</p><p class="p1">Jeno said a prayer as he sat down again, wiping the tiny drop of blood he’d drawn from the boy’s arm and taking his hand. It was a fruitless prayer, sent to a God that must not have been listening. It wasn’t long until Jaemin’s shivering, along with his breathing, ceased. He announced his goodbye with one last tiny sigh. Jeno fought the urge to cry, and instead kissed the boy’s forehead, whispering another silent prayer against his pale skin. Perhaps “begging” would be a better word. After several more minutes, he raised his fingers to the underside of Jaemin’s sharp chin, pressing along the artery.</p><p class="p1">Stillness.</p><p class="p1">Swallowing hard, he tucked Jaemin’s arms along his sides and pulled the sheet up so that it was resting over his rather beautiful face, no longer creased with the throes of pain. He pushed the chair back into its place under the bed, gathered his things, and left. Mindlessly, his legs carried him to the coroner’s office, where he relayed the name, address, and time of death of one Na Jaemin.</p><p class="p1">For December, it was a pleasant day outside. It had just passed dawn, and the brilliant winter sun was peeking up from behind the horizon, as if to cheerily bid a good morning to its constituents.</p><p class="p1">Jeno scowled at the sky.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">-</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As he locked his own front door behind him, the heaviness of it all finally settled onto his shoulders, making his knees weak and his back ache something fierce. He needed to sleep; his next patient was due to be examined around lunch-time. Trudging down his hallway and into his bedroom, he was taken somewhat aback at how profoundly and personally affected he was by the events of the night.</p><p class="p1">He had seen patients die before. He’d even been with them, much like he was with Jaemin. In his line of work, he was not unused to death. Why, then, did his heart feel like an anchor in his torso? Why did he feel that abrupt and stinging emptiness?</p><p class="p1">Perhaps it was because Jaemin was so young. Perhaps it was because it was terribly sad that he had no family or friends to speak of, at least any that he wanted with him while he died. Perhaps it was because of those toothy smiles that he gave, even from his quite literal deathbed. Perhaps it was because Jeno had never stayed with a patient quite like <em>that</em>, holding their hand, talking to them in a low voice to keep them calm while they anticipated their own demise, brushing his fingers through their hair to soothe them.</p><p class="p1">He wanted to chastise himself for his lack of professionalism, but he never got around to it, exhaustion increasing the density of his bones until they felt like lead under his skin. And, truly, would it really have been the right thing to leave Jaemin alone, or, even if he’d stayed with him, to put up a front of stringency and coldness? Jeno didn’t think so.</p><p class="p1">Whatever the reason, whatever the outcome, Jeno was drained by the loss, and felt that he might have collapsed if so much as a breeze touched him. Changed from his stiff work slacks and button-up and into softer linens, Jeno was ready for his pathetic excuse for a good night’s rest when a voice, soft, low, sweet, reached his ears. From just outside his bedroom door. Jeno would normally be unbothered by such an occurrence, as voices in and of themselves were nothing strange, but he had no neighbors, no housemates. Too tired and perhaps too apprehensive to move from his spot on the carpet, he called out.</p><p class="p1">“Who’s there?”</p><p class="p1">He did not receive an answer. Convinced his tired mind was drawing up figments of sound, barely-there dreams surfacing, luring him to sleep, Jeno continued to ready himself for his well-deserved rest. He drew his curtains to block out the light of the emerging day and sat down on the edge of his bed. A deeply troubled sigh warbled from his chest.</p><p class="p1">Although it didn’t feel so to Jeno right then, he knew he would feel alright about Jaemin in a few hours, maybe a day. He would continue to see patients, he would continue to be a doctor, a friend, a son. The sting of loss grows softer with the passing of time, a thought that comforted Jeno in his last few moments of waking.</p><p class="p1">“Doctor Lee? Jeno?” The mentioned shot upright in his bed, sleep shaken from his racing mind, his eyes, his bones. Now that, he most definitely heard.</p><p class="p1">Flitting around the room, his eyes landed on a figure, standing on the rug near the door. The same brown hair, the same wide dark eyes, the same lithe frame.</p><p class="p1">Jaemin. He saw Na Jaemin.</p><p class="p1">Distantly, he was glad he was already seated in his bed when sleep came to find him more aggressively than he’d expected.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">-</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Jeno woke to find he was still not alone in his bedroom. He came to consciousness to see the figure from before he’d fainted perched cross-legged on top of his bedspread. The sheets didn’t crumple under its weight, and it cast no shadow. Its— or <em>his</em>, rather— hair looked clean. The bags under his eyes, once a permanent fixture on his sad, handsome face, were gone. The loose white clothing that he wore was unstained. His eyes were serene, and bore an uncanny resemblance to those of his former patient.</p><p class="p1">“A spirit?” He wondered aloud, looking into the eyes of the figure, unconsciously pushing himself away from it. The Jaemin Face smiled, eyes crinkling and lips pulling back to reveal rows of those perfect, white, teeth.</p><p class="p1">“Maybe, but I don’t think so. I don’t feel like one anyway.” The figure mused. The voice he heard was Jaemin’s. Jeno shifted under the scrutiny of those wide, unblinking eyes, and made to stand out from under his suddenly constricting sheets. From where he stood beside the bed, the figure looked small, unassuming, even. Jeno’s guard, though, was not yet down.</p><p class="p1">“Jaemin?” He whispered, like a genuine prayer, private and tinged with lingering discomfort. The figure nodded its ghostly head, one that didn’t look much like a ghost’s at all.</p><p class="p1">“The one and only.” Jaemin quirked, tipping his head to the side. His smile faltered, replaced by a somber face that made his delicately sharp features seem heavy and guarded. Jeno couldn’t find it in himself to be frightened of such a face, one so openly emotional and raw. So very human.</p><p class="p1">“Jeno.” He started, raising his eyes to meet the other’s. They are Jaemin’s eyes staring back at him. Jeno nods in acknowledgement, encouraging the figure to continue.</p><p class="p1">“I’m dead, right?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">-</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Jaemin was indeed dead. At least, in the physical sense. Jeno only made the distinction because, in spirit and personality, Jaemin was the liveliest he’d ever seen him. His eyes shone, his teeth sparkled in his perpetual smile. He laughed and chattered and ran and jumped and teased and hugged in a certifiably non-ghostly way. He was a ghost in every sense. That is, in except for the parts of him that most certainly were not. For the greater part, he was still Na Jaemin, in all his strange and cryptic glory. Jeno had no choice but to accept him. It wasn’t like the ghost could up and leave.</p><p class="p1">He was attached to Jeno in some way, shape, or form. He couldn’t leave Jeno’s house without him, and he couldn’t wander about whilst outside. He seemed to have a set diameter around Jeno within which he had to stay. Not that Jaemin minded this much, as he clung to Jeno like a leech most of the time anyway. A leech, sure, but a friendly one that made for a nice companion and had a comforting smile.</p><p class="p1">Over the course of a mere few days, he wedged his way into Jeno’s everyday life, into the routine he’d spent years cultivating. He followed him to patients’ homes, to the market, to the bank, falling into step with him as if they’d known each other for years. For a supernatural being, his presence with time began to feel disconcertingly comfortable to Jeno. Jaemin was easy to be comfortable around. Easy enough that, after their late night conversations, Jeno tucked under the sheets, Jaemin lying on top of them, Jeno deadened right to sleep without the slightest worry of the fact that he had been living with a ghost for more time than he’d ever anticipated. His personality was gentle and bright. He was curious and humorous, and laughed or at the very least smiled at everything Jeno said.</p><p class="p1">Only Jeno could see and hear him. When the two of them left Jeno’s house— since he did, after all, still have to function as a member of civilization, even under the most odd of circumstances— no one seemed to pay any mind to Jaemin. Not even when he chattered excitedly to Jeno about anything and everything he saw— especially about Mrs. Kim from the market’s dog she brought with her every now and then— or thought of, floating along next to Jeno, occasionally wrapping his arms around him the best he could without falling straight through him (something the two of them learned on the first day was a complication with how touchy Jaemin was).</p><p class="p1">Besides the parameters of Jaemin’s existence and company, Jeno also learned that Jaemin didn’t care for being ignored, and that it didn’t much matter to him about Jeno’s reputation and whether or not it suffered from being seen speaking to the air like some kind of lunatic. After Jaemin learned that, with concentration, he could knock over small objects when he was feeling neglected and had destroyed several of Jeno’s belongings, the two compromised on subtle hand signals and signs that satiated Jaemin’s need for validating interactions, while also keeping Jeno’s name out of the townspeoples’ mouths as the resident batty maniac of a witch doctor.</p><p class="p1">The relationship was soft, sweet, almost poetic with its circumstances, though Jeno still found himself occasionally worried about the tendency of Jaemin to forgive. Though his passing was in part due to the incompetency of Jeno’s practice, he still maintained a pleasant and even romantic lovely demeanor. He never caught Jaemin with any semblance of resentment or anger towards Jeno, only the sweetest of smiles and stares. After recovering from his blush, Jeno would find Jaemin’s lack of ill will positively bizarre. The worries became easy to ignore, though, when Jaemin spoke to him in that smooth, low voice, when he smiled with those big, perfect teeth, when his cheeks filled with the softest flushes, when he laughed at even the most foolish of Jeno’s quips.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">-</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Though it had felt like years, only four days had passed with Jaemin when the two of them made Jeno’s dreaded weekly trip to the apothecary. He tried with all his will to act as he normally would, but even he noticed he had been quieter than he normally would be on their walks. If Jaemin noticed the tensed line of his mouth and shoulders while he was yammering animatedly about how he hoped that there were dogs wherever he ended up, and how he missed sleeping, he didn’t mention it.</p><p class="p1">The town’s apothecary was a dark old building, decorated in every window with lush plants and flowers. Although it looked as though it could use a few repairs, the waterworn building carried with it a certain dignity and charm. Jeno opened the front door, meeting only a little resistance from the squeaking hinges. The inside was as to be expected, lit only by a few glowing candles and open windows. Inside were surely hundreds of shelves, lined with jars of dried herbs and blossoms. Their colors were mesmerizing, and Jeno lost Jaemin admiring them while he continued to the counter at the back of the storeroom. There were sounds of life coming from a room beyond, paired with the clinking and bumping of attempted organization. There was a voice muttering colorful curses in between especially loud moments of bustling, but even the comic nature of it all did nothing to soothe Jeno’s rigidity.</p><p class="p1">He cleared his throat politely, though it ended up sounding more like a frog’s croak. The rustling and the voice paused, then resumed with a shout of “Just one moment!” Jeno passed a look over his shoulder at his ghostly companion, still floating around the room and admiring the greenery and bottled ointments and herbal cures. Jeno was sure he wouldn’t need to worry about him for quite some time.</p><p class="p1">A man emerged from the back room to take his place on a rickety stool behind the counter, wrapped in a warm-looking cloak. He looked at home among the cozy decor; curly, honey-brown locks framed his round and boyish face that was dotted in freckles and adorned with a pair of round spectacles. His skin seemed to glow even under the dim lighting, a golden ray of sunshine on a day muted by clouds. Jeno flushed and his shoulders wound even tighter, like the strings of a violin.</p><p class="p1">The pharmacist smiled brightly at him, and he had half a mind to turn away before he was blinded.</p><p class="p1">“Jeno! Oh— apologies— <em>Doctor Lee</em>.” The man snickered and tilted his head. Before Jeno heard Jaemin, he could sense his abrupt presence behind him. He floated around to his left, releasing a little gasp.</p><p class="p1">“Jeno Lee, why, he is <em>marvelous</em>.” He breathed. Jeno knew the pharmacist couldn’t see or hear him, but he still felt the urge to shush the ghost, to shoo him away.</p><p class="p1">“Donghyuck, or should I say <em>Doctor Lee</em>.” He retorted, trying his damndest to sound natural in his teasing and not at all strained or nervous. He knew he’d failed when he heard Jaemin scoff. He ignored him.</p><p class="p1">Their exchange wasn’t long, as Jeno only needed to refill a few of his assorted tonics and capsules, but it stole every ounce of his breath away all the same. He felt as if he had run a few miles at the end of their conversation. He continued to pretend he didn’t notice Jaemin where he was then perched on the counter beside Donghyuck’s right wrist, beaming at Jeno like he’d just discovered the key to the universe.</p><p class="p1">Not that Jeno was, under even usual circumstances, a loud or particularly eloquent person, but with the perpetual peachy glow on Donghyuck’s cheeks and the little peeks of his rabbit-esque teeth, revealed every time he smiled, he tripped and stuttered on nearly every word, if he could even bring himself to speak, much to the bemusement of his companion. When they left the apothecary and started home, Jeno let out a deep sigh, exhausted. Jaemin, next to him, practically vibrated with excitement.</p><p class="p1">“Who on God’s green earth was <em>that</em>?” In his enthusiasm, his voice was raised to a near-shout. Jeno flinched only slightly before signing ‘later’ to the ghost. Jaemin sighed exaggeratedly, but his good-natured smile still lit his face. On the silent walk home, they traversed the street on which Jaemin’s former home sat. Jeno watched him out of the corner of his eye, and he distantly found it strange that he hardly spared the street’s sign a passing glance. In his turmoil about the pharmacist, he wondered about the limit on his time together with Jaemin.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">-</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Jeno had barely cleared the threshold of his door before Jaemin rounded on him, piloting his face mere inches away from Jeno’s. Though the set of his expression was hard and serious, Jeno could see the sparkle of mischief in his eyes.</p><p class="p1">“Who– and do <em>not</em> lie to me, Jeno Lee– was that?”</p><p class="p1">For the second time that day, Jaemin was shouting, and doing so in an uncomfortable proximity to Jeno’s ears. Covering them, he used the volume as an excuse to duck away from the ghost, striding across the room to his medicine cabinet. Jaemin was not so easily swayed, though. He followed Jeno across the room, never ceasing in his stream of words and questions, “Jeno, who was he? Jeno, who was the pharmacist, Jeno, who was that boy? Jeno, how do you know that man? Jeno, you told me that you’d tell me! W<em>ho was he?</em>”</p><p class="p1">“<em>Jaemin</em>.” Jeno said, nearly pleading. He was turned away from the other. The exasperation was overt in his tone. Jaemin pouted, seriously pouted, and floated away, probably to sulk. When Jeno could sense that the ghost had left the room, he let himself settle into comfort, digging around in his satchel for the newly filled bottles to file them away neatly. There was a tinkling crash, thin but loud, from the kitchen, only a room away from Jeno in the parlor.</p><p class="p1">Jeno rolled his eyes and groaned.</p><p class="p1">“Jaemin, stop breaking my teacups!” He shouted, dropping his bag on the nearest chair and storming into the kitchen.</p><p class="p1">“Not until you tell me about that boy!” Jaemin shouted back at him. He was dangling one of the cups by the handle, suspended on his spindly pointer finger, swaying it, taunting Jeno with the promise of dropping it, lest he refuse to comply. It was Jeno’s favorite. Jaemin knew this, judging by the petulant vengeance in his eyes as he wobbled the cup from a dangerous height.</p><p class="p1">Jeno sighed and dug his fingers into his eye sockets, willing away a tension headache that was sure to come shortly.</p><p class="p1">“Why must you know so badly?”</p><p class="p1">After a long beat of silence and no response from Jaemin, he dropped his hands and looked up. Jaemin had already secured the cup back on its hook, and was wringing his fingers. He at least looked a <em>little</em> sorry for the shards of ceramic on the ground under his levitating feet.</p><p class="p1">“He just looked at you special, Jen. Your looked at him the same way, don’t try and deny that. I just… wanted to know why. And I suppose…” He drifted over to sit on the counter next to the sink, and Jeno noticed that his cheeks were rosy.</p><p class="p1">“I guess I just wanted to know what it feels like to fall in love. I just thought that maybe if you talked to me about Donghyuck, maybe I’d get to.”</p><p class="p1">The doe eyes Jaemin aimed at him edged on contrived, but Jeno’s heart was still involuntarily tugged by them. <em>Jeno, you simpleton</em>, he chastised inside his own head. Another sigh was pulled from Jeno, and he gave, like chocolate on a hot summer’s day. He hopped up onto the counter next to Jaemin and prepared for the headache of the newly-bloomed century.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">-</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Jeno had met Donghyuck Lee at university. Jeno was, as most people were, stricken with Donghyuck. He had this sort of certain magnetism that drew people to him, bees to honey. He was vibrant, loud, confident, only some of the many qualities Jeno had admired about him from the first time they’d met, when Donghyuck confidently shouted the wrong answer to a professor’s question.</p><p class="p1">After learning that the both of them were ghastly at histology, the two naturally stuck together. From the beginning, Donghyuck was the kind of friend that Jeno didn’t have to think about making. One moment, they were studying for an exam together in the library, the silence still heavy and awkward, and the next, Jeno was spending most, if not all, of his free time with the boy. He began picking up on subtleties that he wouldn’t notice in his own closest family, like the fact that Donghyuck was squeamish, but only in incredibly particular situations. Or that, when he talked about his older brother, Mark, he drew out his syllables a little longer than normal. Or the little freckles on his cheeks. Or the way the light bounced off of his philtrum and made his mouth look like a gift from God.</p><p class="p1">He wasn’t sure when exactly he realized that he had fallen for Donghyuck, the boy with the shaggy brown hair and soft round cheeks. Maybe it was after noticing that his hands seemed to linger when they brushed Jeno’s, or maybe when Donghyuck, too tired to study, fell asleep on Jeno’s lap while he read his novel aloud. Whenever it was, it was too late.</p><p class="p1">Donghyuck moved on to be a pharmacist. After graduating, Jeno uprooted and moved, relocating to a bigger city with a higher quality residency. Years went by, and by that time Jeno had nearly forgotten about Donghyuck. He had nearly forgotten that infectious laugh, his warm palms, his gentle soul. It was only after deciding to begin his private practice, rather than continue into a hospital, that he returned to that small town with that old medical school on the forgotten edge of a bigger city. He had seen the dark, old apothecary at the end of the street three blocks from his new house, in passing. He had needed new supplies anyway.</p><p class="p1">Upon entering, it all came back. The smile that greeted him from behind the counter and the hug he received that nearly crushed the life out of him revived all of those memories, good, great, wistful, even those that were barely clinging to life at the recesses of his mind.</p><p class="p1"><em>Donghyuck</em>. Beautiful, sun-kissed, kind, brilliant, rambunctious, perfectly freckled Donghyuck.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">-</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Jaemin was staring at him with a strange fascination in his eyes. Jeno suddenly felt rather uncomfortable.</p><p class="p1">“So, that’s Donghyuck Lee,” he clumsily tacked on, trying to find anything to use as a ribbon to neatly tie up the end of his story with the pharmacist. He hoped desperately that Jaemin would be satiated with that.</p><p class="p1">His hopes were misguided.</p><p class="p1">“And you still aren’t married to him?” Jaemin asked, so scarily serious that Jeno felt the need to laugh to relieve the bundle of anxious energy that knotted up and settled inside him at the question. Jaemin’s head began to swivel back and forth, face stricken with disbelief.</p><p class="p1">“Not even courting?” Jaemin’s face then twisted into something akin to disgust, and Jeno wasn’t sure what to say to that. Jaemin pinched the skin between his eyebrows with his thumb and forefinger and jumped down off the counter. He bounced off the floor and into the air, remaining suspended there. Jeno was briefly distracted by the fact that he didn’t think he’d ever get used to a floating person. Jaemin appeared speechless at such news.</p><p class="p1">“Truly, I’m fine with the way things are right now.” Jeno said, quietly, as to not start Jaemin on another shouting rampage. The two made eye contact in the small kitchen. There was a look on Jaemin’s face, like he expected Jeno to continue talking, though there was no more to be said. The silence settled heavily between them and Jeno positively <em>squirmed</em> under the awkward atmosphere, but Jaemin, on the other hand, was refusing to crack, squinting and waiting patiently for the answer he wanted. The pressure was too much for Jeno.</p><p class="p1">“Jaemin, even if I were to ever work up the courage to ask Donghyuck to court me, I genuinely doubt he’d be interested enough to agree.” Jeno tried again, the placation in his tone almost palpable as it left his mouth. Jaemin remained silent still, lips pinched in unamusement. His eyebrows dropped into a straight, low line. Jeno’s floundering intensified.</p><p class="p1">“You saw the way I acted around him, Jaemin. I fumbled like an idiot. Do you really think someone like <em>Donghyuck</em> would be willing to be with– let alone <em>love</em>– someone like that?” Jeno was unfortunately obvious in trying desperately to worm his way out of the conversation, having had it with himself in his own head for years. He’d made up his mind long ago. He could admire Donghyuck, but only from afar.</p><p class="p1">“Yes.” Jaemin deadpanned, and Jeno was almost startled. He thought he’d gone mute. Either that, or he’d futilely hoping that the ghost would leave it be. Unfortunately for Jeno, the awkward silence returned after the brief exchange; Jaemin was back to staring blankly at the doctor. Instead of opening his foolish mouth again, though, he stood and made to leave the kitchen, avoiding eye contact as he passed. The ghost reached for his arm, but was unable to touch him; he groaned in frustration.</p><p class="p1">“<em>Jeno</em>.” Jaemin near-whined. It was enough to give him pause, but he didn’t turn around just yet.</p><p class="p1">“You really think that Donghyuck isn’t interested in you?” Jeno silently analyzed his tone to find hints of pettiness or sarcasm or otherwise, but he found none. Instead, Jaemin sounded a little sad. He turned to find Jaemin looking at the ground, wringing his fingers. A warm smile grew across his mouth as he peered up to meet Jeno’s gaze.</p><p class="p1">“If ‘Hyuck’s blushing had anything to say about the matter, you two would be wed by the morning.” His lilting tease and use of the nickname for Donghyuck made Jeno’s face alight with a blush so intense, he was afraid it would burst straight through his skin. He decided then to stay quiet, knowing that, at that point, any arguing with Jaemin would be for naught.</p><p class="p1">“And besides, I think he’d be a bumbling fool not to fall for your handsome face.” Jaemin’s cheeks pinkened as he spoke. Jeno choked on his tongue. If his heart wasn’t hammering before, it sure was then. He was certain that Jaemin could probably hear it thrumming against his ribcage. Jaemin tread on.</p><p class="p1">“You’re absolutely brilliant, you have the kindest heart of anyone I’ve ever met, and though your jokes would be fitting coming from a man of much greater age, they somehow just serve to make you more endearing.” Jeno felt fit to implode.</p><p class="p1">“Jeno, if you aren’t fit for Donghyuck, then nobody is.” Jeno had to cough out a bark of laughter before he seriously lost his sanity.</p><p class="p1">He was then keenly aware of the fact that he was positively enraptured with Na Jaemin, and probably had been for a while. His beautiful face, and his perpetual smile. the way he looked at Jeno, with those wise, shimmering eyes. Only Jaemin could look into the face of the man who sat beside him uselessly as he died and still spout words worthy of poetry. Jeno wanted to touch him, to hug him, to pet his hair. Once again, though, all he could do was stand by. It wasn’t quite as sad that time, as they were both grinning nervously at each other, a few feet apart in Jeno’s small kitchen.</p><p class="p1">“You don’t have to say all that,” was all that Jeno seemed to be capable of coming up with. He felt the same as did when he’d seen Donghyuck again, after all those years lived apart, breathless and warm and crackling with passion. Yet, now, there was a deep and pressing ache that reverberated from the same spot in his center. Worse than the pangs of longing he felt for the pharmacist, it was the dull pain of loss, of regret.</p><p class="p1">He wanted to voice this to the ghost, but Jaemin beat him to speaking.</p><p class="p1">“I love you. I loved you in life, and now in death.”</p><p class="p1">Jeno let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding, a smile pulling the corners of his mouth. <em>Love</em>, that sounded about right. Jaemin said then, “Let me ask him for you.”</p><p class="p1">The cloud of emotions swirling over Jeno’s head, messy and heavy and every which color, suddenly froze in time in his sudden confusion. Jeno could feel his face clear of any expression, while his brain screeched to a brutal halt and then slowly chugged back to life. Jaemin began to elaborate, sensing the lack of understanding, his own nervous energy then palpable in the space around them.</p><p class="p1">“A body can only hold one soul at a time.” He began to gesture with his hands as he spoke. “I’m not sure how exactly I came to know this, but of it I’m certain. What if I were to, I don’t know, take over for you temporarily?” He curled his fingers into air quotes at the words ‘take over.’</p><p class="p1">“Just long enough to ask Donghyuck if I– or, you, I suppose– could court him?” There was a quiet stretch in which one could hear the cogs and wheels turning inside Jeno’s head while he processed the words. Jaemin. Taking over <em>his</em> body. To ask the boy. That he’s loved for years. If <em>Jeno</em> could be the one to court him. Jaemin blinked at him.</p><p class="p1">“Jaemin… Are you proposing to possess me?” Jaemin barked out a sharp laugh, then covered his mouth.</p><p class="p1">“Something like that?” He muttered between giggles, the energy in the room humming back to life from its strange and abrupt grinding halt, giddy and excited.</p><p class="p1">Jeno thoughtfully weighed the idea, still taken slightly aback at the proposal, alarmed and concerned that it made sense, and that he was considering agreeing to it. It would surely be easier to handle the certain rejection if he weren’t the one asking. He wouldn’t have to fret over his own nerves, at least not in front of Donghyuck. It wasn’t the worst idea, he thought. Still though, Jeno felt something that gave him pause, and made him want to raise a warning bell, something that made him resist taking the offer. It was far too kind a proposition to be given to him, especially from Jaemin. That nagging ache returned to his chest.</p><p class="p1">“Jaemin, <em>why</em> are you being so kind? You have absolutely no reason to be, especially not to me. I was supposed to be your doctor. I was supposed to heal you, help you. If I had been better, maybe you’d still be alive today. Haven’t you thought about that? What I did…” Jeno paused, gulping to soothe the sudden aridity of his throat. “... Just sitting there, watching you die… I might as well have killed you.” Jeno’s voice broke on ‘killed.’ The life was sucked from the room when Jeno spoke. Jaemin wasn’t smiling anymore. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. he frowned, wrinkles appearing in between his eyebrows. His mouth opened, closed.</p><p class="p1">Finally, “Of course I’ve thought about it. But, Jeno…” Jeno couldn’t believe what he was seeing as he watched a smile spread on that face that never lost its grace, its kindness. He was speechless, looking at Jaemin, who’d just told him that he knew Jeno’s doings, his regrets, and smiled anyway. Helped anyway. Forgave anyway.</p><p class="p1">Jaemin reached out his hand, Jeno did too. He felt the cool whispers on his skin as he watched Jaemin’s hand caress his own.</p><p class="p1">“I’ve spent my whole life a sick person. To tell you the truth, I can’t remember a single day in my childhood when I was well– at least, well enough to play with the other children, or defend myself against them when they picked on me for how pale I was, or how skinny.”</p><p class="p1">He gaze slid from Jeno’s face to the ground.</p><p class="p1">“The sisters weren’t much better, at my school. They may have dressed like nuns, but they surely didn’t act like holy people. My parents, the same. Always... they <em>always</em> thought I was faking it, acting weak so I could get the other kids in trouble. There was never a single other person that stood up for me, or was at least on my side. When I grew up and became an adult, became a writer, I still can’t say my luck with people turned. I wasn’t even surprised when I got the illness, the flu, I just thought I deserved it, like I deserved everything else in my life. That was until I met you.”</p><p class="p1">Jeno’s hand grew colder as Jaemin’s hold intensified.</p><p class="p1">“Jeno, you showed me a kindness that I had never felt from anyone, ever. Of course, you had to treat me nicely, as a patient and all, but the day I died, when you stayed with me… Jeno, that was one of the happiest days of my life. You sat with me, held my hand, talked to me as if we’d known each other our whole lives, like I was the only other person in the world at that moment. I can’t remember a time in my life that I felt that loved, or that seen.”</p><p class="p1">His smile was back, adorned by a waterline that was laden with shiny tears, teetering on the edge of spilling over, but just holding themselves back.</p><p class="p1">“I’m begging you, please don’t feel guilty about that day. If anything, I’m grateful for you, and I always will be. And maybe you won’t believe me when I say this, or maybe you don’t think so yourself, but I would consider us great friends, Jeno. Maybe even the best of them.”</p><p class="p1">The vacuum of pregnant silence was broken only by the sounds of traded breaths. The sighs of barely restrained tears from the two best of friends in that small kitchen that day. Relief, gratitude, love, palpable as they coursed through Jeno’s veins. A blanket of peace settled over the two as they hid their flushed cheeks with wide smiles, embarrassed at the truth that had been spoken.</p><p class="p1">“Okay. We can try it. The… possession.” Jeno rasped, trying his best to keep it together for as long as he could. Jaemin laughed wetly and beamed at him.</p><p class="p1">“Okay. Thank you for letting me do this for you.” Jaemin whispered back.</p><p class="p1">Jeno nodded.</p><p class="p1">“Donghyuck likes sunflowers, by the way.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">-</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He was expecting the process to be painful. To Jeno, the idea of feeling one’s soul leave their body seemed uncomfortable or, at the very least, unpleasant. To be completely frank, though, Jeno had never been possessed before, so who was he to say?</p><p class="p1">When Jaemin reached out to him with one of those slender, bony hands, he closed his eyes and braced for the worst. After a few moments of quiet and positively nothing happening, Jeno cracked one eye open to see Jaemin’s face squeezed in concentration.</p><p class="p1">“Jaemin, I don’t think it’s wo–”</p><p class="p1">“Hush.”</p><p class="p1">“Alright.”</p><p class="p1">Jeno watched his face contort further, eyebrows drawing closer, nose scrunching harder, before it relaxed completely with a deep, defeated sigh.</p><p class="p1">“It’s not working.” He sounded so subdued. So sad.</p><p class="p1">“Jaemin, like I said, I’m really okay with how things are right now with Donghyuck, please, you don’t have to worry. Let’s just go to the market, yeah? Maybe Mrs. Kim brought her dog again—“</p><p class="p1">“No. No. That won’t do. Let me try one more time.” The set of his eyes was determined, sure. The confidence he had released into the room seeped into Jeno and he nodded once, shortly, before squaring his shoulders and closing his eyes once more. He sighed through his nose, trying to relax and <em>not</em> think about how getting possessed was going to feel. Once again the space between them lapsed into silence, but this time Jeno didn’t open his eyes.</p><p class="p1">Instead he waited, quiet, even when he felt the coolest whisper of touch against his lips, a kiss like the softest mountain wind. When a sensation traveled from the tips of his toes to the crown of his head like jumping into a spring in the summertime, and not just because of the sudden gentle cold he felt. When he could no longer feel the weight of his bones, the subtle awareness of his own joints and breath. He waited, quiet.</p><p class="p1">“Jeno, you awake?”</p><p class="p1">A frown deepened his features before he opened his eyes at the shock of hearing his own voice call his name.</p><p class="p1">There, in front of him, stood himself, in the exact position he’d been in before he closed his eyes. The Jeno Face smiled. Jaemin.</p><p class="p1">Jeno shivered, head to toe.</p><p class="p1">“Odd,” was all he seemed to manage, tilting his head, studying his own face. Jaemin watched him from behind his own eyes, seeming a bit amused if anything. His eyebrows jumped up once, twice, he winked. He even reached for his bicep and squeezed, whistling lowly.</p><p class="p1">“I feel so handsome.” Jaemin said, with Jeno’s voice.</p><p class="p1">“Nonsense,” Jeno breathed, absently, still preoccupied with wrapping his painfully slow brain around the fact that it was <em>Jaemin</em> in his body, not him. He watched Jaemin tap <em>his</em> toes and wiggle <em>his</em> fingers, giddy and energetic.</p><p class="p1">He looked down at his own hands, merely a touch transparent, then back up at Jaemin. He felt breathless.</p><p class="p1">Jaemin turned his head to one side, then back the other way sharply, flicking the hair from his forehead, confident and free. His smile lowered until his teeth were no longer visible, just a lingering smirk that set Jeno’s skin ablaze with embarrassment.</p><p class="p1">“Now, Jeno Lee. Let’s go court that boy.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">-</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">On their trip back to the apothecary, they did stop by the market. Jeno watched Jaemin bend down to pet Mrs. Kim’s small puppy dog, eyes invisible where they crinkled into crescent moons, happiness bubbling out of him and filling every kiosk in the vicinity with warmth and light. Jaemin had that sort of gift, even if it wasn’t his body he was using.</p><p class="p1">They visited the stand at the market vending flowers, and picked up one neatly trimmed sunflower, stem wrapped snugly in brown paper and finished with twine.</p><p class="p1">Jeno watched this from a distance, struggling to keep up, since he still was not used to using his body as it was with the same ease and precision Jaemin had used as a ghost. Every step he took was as though he was walking on damp ice, slippery like his body preferred using the air to the ground.</p><p class="p1">All matters silly and otherwise were tossed aside when the pair found themselves outside the apothecary, staring up at the sign in mutual silence. As there was no one around, Jaemin decided to speak to Jeno aloud after a heaving sigh. </p><p class="p1">“Now that we’re here, I’m reconsidering.”</p><p class="p1">Jeno scoffed. “It’s too late for reconsideration, Jaemin dear.”</p><p class="p1">“Are you sure this is alright? This is what you want?” He turned his face to look at Jeno as he asked. Jeno breathed in and out, thinking as thoroughly as he could about how he wished to answer. Jaemin’s determination had almost made him forget why he <em>hadn’t</em> done this himself for the years he had harbored feelings for the pharmacist. Donghyuck wouldn’t agree to it.</p><p class="p1">“I don’t know. All I know is that I love Donghyuck, and I love you. And it feels like the right thing to do. So yes, this is what I want.”</p><p class="p1">Jaemin whined, turning away, hands raising to cover his flushing cheeks, flower tucked into the crease of his elbow. Jeno could tell he was pleased, though. Despite the fact that there was a high chance he was losing Donghyuck that day, as long as Jaemin was happy, it seemed maybe the tiniest bit alright with him.</p><p class="p1">“Yah, Jeno. You raging sap.”</p><p class="p1">He patted his cheeks firmly three times. Shook his head back and forth. Jiggled his shoulders up and down. He looked at Jeno once more.</p><p class="p1">“Come in with me?”</p><p class="p1">“Alright.”</p><p class="p1">Jaemin pushed open the door to an empty front room, save for one boy, sitting at the front counter. He was scratching something onto a piece of paper. He didn’t look up when he mumbled a light “welcome” to the visitor.</p><p class="p1">Jaemin tread forward, while Jeno hesitated at the door. Crossing the threshold was like being doused in ice water, his fingers erupting into trembles and heart bursting into an erratic dance in his ribcage, rattling his bones.</p><p class="p1">This was it. The boy he’d loved for years. This was the moment he was rejected by him. He wasn’t sure he could bear to watch. That, after all, was the appeal of letting Jaemin do this in the first place; he didn’t have to.</p><p class="p1">His curiosity bested him, though, and he drifted further into the building, where Donghyuck and Jaemin had already greeted each other and were chatting over the counter, casually by Jeno’s estimation. Jaemin held the flower low, under the table where Donghyuck couldn’t see it. Donghyuck shuffled a little in his chair and brushed some of his hair behind his ear. Jeno’s heart ached. <em>Donghyuck, I’ll miss you</em>, he thought. He tried his best to focus on Jaemin’s smile.</p><p class="p1">Jaemin flicked the quickest gaze over to him. Donghyuck spoke.</p><p class="p1">“So, what are you doing back here, anyway? Did you forget something? So clumsy.” He chuckled. Jaemin giggled with him. Once more, Jaemin glanced over to Jeno. They both nodded.</p><p class="p1">“Actually, ah. I wanted to ask you something.”</p><p class="p1">A slice of fear jolted down Jeno’s spine, and he gasped. He swiftly covered his ears, eyes frozen open to watch the scene he’d been predicting for years, but dreaded nonetheless.</p><p class="p1">The Jeno Face Jaemin wore was speaking, though Jeno couldn’t hear him talk, smooth and calm, nodding and using his one free hand. His expression was open and warm. Donghyuck’s was blank, eyes wide.</p><p class="p1">As Jaemin finished talking, Jeno’s instinct for survival at last bustled to life, and he snapped his eyes shut, bracing for the pity, the apologies, the rejection.</p><p class="p1">Through the firm buffer of his hands over his ears, Jeno heard the sharp scrape of wood over wood, a stool moving over the floor. In curiosity, he opened his eyes just in time to see Donghyuck bounding around the counter and securing Jaemin in a hug, tight and firm and not like a rejection at all.</p><p class="p1">Jeno’s hands unglued from his ears, and, like the snap of a book slamming closed, he was back in his body, and Donghyuck’s arms were secured around his torso, and his head was against his shoulder, and Donghyuck was laughing his brilliant laugh, and Jeno’s own arms were around him. No rejection in sight.</p><p class="p1">The hug wound tighter. Jeno’s breath hitched, and not just from the grip.</p><p class="p1">“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that.” Donghyuck breathed against his collarbone. No rejection.</p><p class="p1">He said yes. He… said <em>yes</em>. Jeno buried his nose into Donghyuck’s curly hair and pulled him closer, rocking him back and forth in a gentle, happy sway. The rush of emotions he felt could hardly be captured in words. The years of pining, of fear, of “what-ifs” and wistfulness, all boiled down to this moment, Donghyuck accepting his offer and embracing him like a lover would.</p><p class="p1">As the couple stood, wrapped in each other’s arms, Jeno felt the brush of hands against his shoulders, stronger than he’d ever felt them. They turned to arms that slid around him from behind, a hug most sweet and pure. A whisper against his ear.</p><p class="p1">“Thank you, Jeno Lee. I love you. Goodbye.”</p><p class="p1">The arms were gone, and hot tears were spilling from Jeno’s eyes faster than he could stop them, pouring over his cheeks like a leaking faucet. Donghyuck heard a sniff and pulled back, getting a good look at Jeno’s face. His expression wound into one akin to Jeno’s mother’s, using his thumbs to wipe away the tears on his cheeks.</p><p class="p1">“Come now, Jen, you’ve always been oh so <em>emotional</em>. What is it now? Isn’t this a moment to be happy?” Jeno’s smile grew to mirror Donghyuck’s own encouraging one. He shrugged.</p><p class="p1">“It’s nothing, it’s nothing.” Jeno said wetly. Donghyuck sucked his teeth playfully and leaned in close to Jeno’s face, stealing his breath straight out of his lungs with a kiss to his cheek. His fingers curled into Jeno’s shirt, while Jeno’s hands held his sides. Donghyuck pulled away and flushed hard, turning to hide his face. When he did, he saw the sunflower, abandoned on the counter after all.</p><p class="p1">“You remembered.” He drawled, picking up the flower and bringing it to his face, blinking at it as if to say hello. His fingers ghosted over the petals and the center.</p><p class="p1">Jeno watched Donghyuck admire the flower, beaming with words he didn’t say.</p><p class="p1"><em>A sunflower, for my sunflower</em>.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">-</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Jeno was walking down a cobbled path, early in the morning, before the day broke. The preamble of sunshine, a muted blueish purple, painted the sky. To his right walked Donghyuck, grumbling at the absurd hour he’d been awoken at. The ground was dry, and the air, though not yet touched by the sun, was warm.</p><p class="p1">Jeno stayed quiet in the wake of Donghyuck’s complaints. He smiled, amused, and in response lifted a hand for Donghyuck to take. He did, begrudgingly, sighing as their fingers laced together and swung between them.</p><p class="p1">“Where are you taking me, anyway?” Donghyuck groaned. Though he was nearly Jeno’s height, his gait was slow and lethargic, making Jeno take smaller steps than normal to match his pace</p><p class="p1">“You will see, my love.” Jeno responded, chuckling. Donghyuck sighed.</p><p class="p1">Near the end of the street, just off the path, an iron gate stood tall and somber and proud. Through it, one could see rows of headstones, loved ones and others. Jeno steered them towards the entrance to the cemetery. Donghyuck was quiet, then.</p><p class="p1">He fished the key he used to unlock the heavy pad resting against the iron bars from his left pocket, and he pushed the gate open with one hand, the other still holding onto Donghyuck. They followed the path traversing through the rows, leaving the resting a respectful space of dignity. Left, left, right.</p><p class="p1">They walked through the grass then, passing one, two, three, four headstones before coming to a stop. A small headstone jutted from the ground, quietly confident among the dewy grass. Jeno knelt in front of it, Donghyuck followed, still holding onto his hand, squeezing it tighter now.</p><p class="p1">On the stone, an engraving. A name, decorated with a wreath of etched sunflowers, intertwined in a delicate frame.</p><p class="p1">The name, <em>Na Jaemin</em>.</p><p class="p1">“He liked sunflowers too?” Donghyuck was whisper-silent, reverent and still.</p><p class="p1">Jeno hummed thoughtfully, reaching out to touch the stone, rubbing his fingers together where they’d gathered dew from the surface. They knelt in silence for a long stretch of time. Jeno reminisced. He thought of warm smiles, bubbling laughter, love confessions, cool, barely-there kisses.</p><p class="p1">The dirt under the stone was still somewhat fresh, grass just starting to sprout up from its surface. Jeno sunk three fingers into the earth there.</p><p class="p1">“Who is he?” Donghyuck asked, shuffling closer to Jeno to rest a head on his shoulder, breathing soft and even.</p><p class="p1">Jeno smiled at the ground, then at Donghyuck. As he kissed him, the sun rose above the horizon, spilling its life over the landscape.</p><p class="p1">“Just one of my very close friends. Maybe even my best one.”</p><p class="p1">Donghyuck hummed and tucked one of Jeno’s arms into his own, pulling him close. The pair sat down on the grass, there with Jaemin, quiet as the birds began to wake and sing their morning song. Wind rushed through the leaves of the trees. The stones and grass glowed with the new light.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Jeno smiled at the sky.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you so much for reading! please scream at me in the comments :D</p><p>also follow me on twitter @johlyfams ok bye!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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